


Pong Culture

by MahoganyDoodles



Series: Pop Culture [3]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Beer Pong Tournament, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M, and yes it's exactly as ridiculous as you think it's going to be, toot toot i'm still onboard the crackfic train
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26273944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MahoganyDoodles/pseuds/MahoganyDoodles
Summary: Finally, a tournament Vegeta can win.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Tights Briefs/Raditz
Series: Pop Culture [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1504217
Kudos: 20





	Pong Culture

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation of Pop Culture, where Vegeta puts his newly-discovered iPhone Cup Pong skills to the test.
> 
> I wrote this sequel back in November for a prompt event before I even finished the main installment of Pop Culture but in the midst of other events I had signed up for, I completely forgot about it, WHOOPS. Each chapter features a rare(?)pair opponent and all of it is crack, crack, and more crack. Hope you all enjoy!

“If you’re trying to make a battle strategy, I can already tell that it’s wrong.”

A sharp object stabbed him in the forehead, and Vegeta growled as he pressed his hand to the spot where Bulma’s hurled pencil had jabbed him. “Nice try, dumbass. It’s a bracket, not a battle strategy.”

Vegeta frowned. “A bracket for a tournament? Where you are strategically planning the matches for your own benefit?” Bulma just shrugged off the weight of his contempt, not denying the accusation. “That sounds the same as a battle strategy. One a weak earthling would make, one who fears their opponents.”

“Hey!” Another pencil went flying his direction, and he shattered it to pieces with a flick. “It’s not a bracket for just _any_ tournament. I’ve convinced everybody to do a group beer pong tournament here next weekend, and the winner’s going to get a prize. So if _you_ don’t want to participate because it’s unfair or _whatever,_ then that’s just fine.”

Well, that caught his attention. “A competition? And there’ll be a winner?” He gritted his teeth, “Will Kakarot be there?”

Bulma sighed. “Yes Vegeta, of course Goku will be there. But I’ve already put him on the other side of the bracket, so if you want to play him we’re going to have to make it to the finals.”

“...you did that on purpose.”

“Congrats genius, glad you’re catching on. Now, let’s talk strategy.”

Impetuous woman. “I haven’t even agreed to participate.”

The withering look she sent him would have caused anyone less than a Super Saiyan to crumple. He returned the look. After about ten seconds of their staring contest—without breaking eye contact—Bulma continued, “So, this tournament is basically just like the Cup Pong game we’ve been playing, except with real cups and real drinks so we’ll have to practice—” 

“I need no practice.” The muscles flexed under his shirt, his preening evident. “I crush your pathetic skills in a matter of turns, and I will do the same to our competition.”

 _Winning, or seeing Vegeta embarrassed?_ Bulma mulled over it over, not noticing Vegeta’s fist-clench of victory as she finally broke eye contact to think. Well, she really did like to win… but the idea of Vegeta being defeated by a tiny plastic ball… “Sounds like you’ve got it all under control, champ! Definitely no need to practice.”

He snorted. “Finally, you’re learning, woman.”

🍺🏓

The day of the tournament came fast as could be, with Bulma and Panchy running around the house frantically to make sure they’d have drinks and snacks to satisfy all tastes. At last the space was set up, with soft mood lighting, robotic waiters with canapes, and LED tables that glowed with stylized versions of the team’s names. It may just have been a beer pong tournament, but the Briefs had a reputation to maintain, you know.

Up first, Team The Wall, against—

“Remind me why we resurrected you, again?” Vegeta scoffed at their wild-haired opponent.

Raditz grinned back. “Because you missed my irresistible charm?”

The truth was, no one quite _knew_ how Raditz had been resurrected—only that Tights had shown up with the beefcake on her arm and that was that; no questions asked, please.

“You ready, Bulma?” her sister called across the table. 

“Ready whether you are or not!” Bulma called back. 

And with that they were off, staring into each other’s eyes as they tossed their ping-pong balls at the same time. Tights’ ball flew just a little too far to the left, and Bulma’s bounced off the rim of a cup, skittering across the top. _Go in, go in, go in,_ she chanted on repeat in her head. The ball tottered to the side, and—

“Yes! Balls to The Wall, please.”

Tights smiled, tossing the ball back across the table as she began to drink. “I feel like I should have expected that.” She turned to Raditz. “And sorry babe, but that was bitch cup. You have to drop your pants until you make a cup. House rules.”

“Why do _I_ have to? Why can’t you?”

The corner of Tights’ lip curved up. “Because then _I_ get to enjoy the view.” He grumbled but reached for his belt.

“Hey, eyes on the game and not your boyfriend’s ass, please!” Bulma sunk her next shot, landing the ball perfectly in the center of the cup. “Kobe!” 

Raditz groaned, lifting the next cup to his lips. “C’mon Vegeta, go easy on us will you?”

Smirking, Vegeta lifted his arm, releasing the ball at the height of his swing.

_Crack._

Tights’ and Raditz’s jaws fell open and they turned to look behind them, the white shell just peeking out from where it was embedded deep into the wall. 

“I—” Vegeta’s stunned look quickly turned to aggravation, snarling, “These balls are so light and flimsy, how could I be expected to not crush them with my superior strength?”

Raditz raised a brow, and plucked the remaining ball off the table, effortlessly landing it in one of Vegeta’s cups.

Tea kettles would be envious of the high-pitched shriek he let out, and Bulma thought she might have seen literal steam pouring from his ears. 

Distraction, activate. “You can reclaim your dignity and pull your pants back up now,” Bulma called.

Raditz turned his head to the side and crossed his arms, miffed. “Well _I_ like them where they are, thank you very much.”

Bulma snorted. “No, you just like that Tights’ hand is on your ass.”

His teeth glinted dangerously. “Is there a difference?”

🍺🏓

After that, the game went by quickly, with Bulma carrying the team until they only had two cups left, while Tights and Raditz still had more than half. Of course, they would have been doing far better if they stopped canoodling for more than a moment to pay attention to their shots. 

Their arms were locked behind the other’s back even now, Tights looking warmly up while Raditz smiled down on his topaz-haired girlfriend.

“Look at their sickly sweetness, I bet they have _no_ spice in their relationship at all.” Vegeta missed his shot deliberately, pinging Raditz in the head. 

Actually, Bulma in fact had been thinking _quite_ the opposite, it was always the people who never showed it that really got their freak on—but more importantly, who was _Vegeta_ of all people to bash others’ sense of sexual adventure?

Still, she wasn’t going to let something like that distract her from victory. Vegeta may have thrown away his shot, but she was young, scrappy, and hungry for victory. She’d made the past two, so she intended to end this here and now. “For fire,” she called and aimed at the remaining cups. 

And made it. 

“YES!” she shouted. Raditz rolled his eyes but rolled the ball back to her. 

This was it. Last cup and they’d win. And it was sitting halfway off the edge of the table already, but neither Raditz nor Tights had noticed. 

...Well it was an asshole move, but Bulma was an asshole with a mean overhand throw.

The ping-pong ball hit the cup hard directly on the side, knocking it just perfectly so it spilled all over Raditz’s still exposed boxer briefs.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Raditz screamed.

Vegeta was on the floor, clutching his sides, convulsing with laughter as Bulma yelled back, “This is why you wear pants!”

**Author's Note:**

> If you make bitch cup then the OTHER team should be punished with the no-pants rule and that’s the tea on that.
> 
> Up to bat next chapter: Tien and Yamcha!


End file.
